Mother's Day: Women mourn loss of children killed by the state

As the world observes Mother's Day today, countless women will be greeted with bouquets, heartfelt notes, and tender hugs from their children and loved ones.

This special day is dedicated to celebrating the essence of motherhood—its sacrifices, joys, and boundless love.

However, for some Kenyan mothers, this year's Mother's Day will be filled with profound grief.

For them, the day marks a painful reminder of the children they lost too early during the anti-Finance Bill protests on June 25, 2024, where police violence snuffed out the hopes and futures of a generation.

Instead of enjoying breakfast in bed or the sound of their children's laughter, these mothers are left to face indescribable sorrow, lingering questions, and a justice system that appears unmoved by their suffering.

Their experiences stand in sharp contrast to the worldwide celebration of motherhood, exposing a wound that remains painfully unresolved.

In a simple tin-walled house in Eastleigh, Nairobi, Edith Wanjiku clutches her son's clothes, her eyes red and swollen from crying. "Ibrahim's smile was my strength. Now, all I have is silence," she whispers.

Her 21-year-old son, Ibrahim Kamau Wanjiku, was a boda boda rider with a promising future. Full of energy and always ready to assist his family, he was tragically taken from them on June 25, 2024.

"The last time I saw him was the evening of June 24th," Edith told the Standard, her voice shaking.

"He was his usual cheerful self, promising to return soon."

But the following day, as protests against the Finance Bill 2024 unfolded across Nairobi, Ibrahim joined his friends on the streets. By evening, he was gone.

Edith recalls the events of that day with a chilling clarity.

"His friends came to our house asking for toothpaste to ease their eyes from the tear gas. They seemed uneasy, like they were hiding something, but I didn’t understand why," she says.

As night approached, her anxiety grew.

"I kept calling his phone. It rang, but no one picked up. Eventually, his friends confessed they hadn’t seen him since the protests," she explains.

By 10 p.m., Ibrahim still hadn’t come home. Edith waited until midnight, her fears intensifying with every hour that passed.

"I couldn’t sit still. I decided to search every hospital with my relatives. We walked from Kenyatta Hospital to Mbagathi, checking the critical patients and unknown casualties—it was a nightmare I’ll never forget," she continues.

Her voice cracks as she speaks. "I found him at the city mortuary. He was lying there, bloodied, still wearing his favorite pink jacket, black jeans, and open shoes. There were eight bodies, and my son was the second one I saw."

The image is etched into her mind, an indelible pain that time cannot erase.

As a Muslim, Edith sought to bury Ibrahim swiftly, in accordance with religious beliefs but the police obstructed her at every turn.

"They sent me in circles for three days, delaying the release of his body," she recalls.

With the help of Amnesty International and her local MCA, she was finally able to bring him home, but the harrowing experience left her shattered.

Faith Nafula Atsangu, a counseling psychologist, emphasizes the profound trauma of losing a child to violence, describing it as a uniquely harrowing experience.

"Grief is not a straightforward process—it comes in waves. For mothers who have lost their children during protests, healing is especially challenging due to the sudden and unjust nature of the deaths," she explains.

"It's not simply about mourning; it encompasses feelings of confusion, anger, and helplessness."

Grief typically progresses through several stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and ultimately acceptance.

Many mothers find themselves stuck in denial, holding onto the hope that their child may return, or fall into deep depression, unable to function normally.

"While some may eventually find acceptance, learning to live with the pain, the journey is highly personal," Nafula shares.

"Unresolved grief, if left unchecked, can lead to chronic stress, which weakens the immune system and heightens health risks."

Nafula encourages mothers to reach out for support.

"It's important to talk to a therapist, participate in support groups, or reconnect with activities that bring joy. You don't have to go through this alone," she advises.

Reflecting as a mother herself, she adds, "Before we were mothers, we were individuals with dreams, hobbies, and laughter. Grief should not define our entire identity. Practicing self-care is a crucial part of survival."

Dozens of mothers across the country are grieving the loss of their children following the violent turn of protests in June 2024.

What began as peaceful demonstrations against the Finance Bill 2024 and its harsh tax proposals ended in tragedy, as police responded with tear gas and live bullets.

According to Amnesty International, many of those harmed or killed were unarmed civilians.

The Kenya Human Rights Commission has strongly criticized the use of excessive force and is calling for independent investigations into the incidents.

These women are just some of the many mourning loved ones lost in the chaos.

The government’s handling of the situation has fallen far short. Despite pledges to launch investigations, no officers have been held criminally accountable.

In a bid to seek justice, grieving families have filed a petition demanding answers, financial redress, a formal public inquiry, and access to psychological support.

Gillian Munyao—better known as Mama Rex—has emerged as a powerful voice of resistance after losing her 19-year-old son, Rex Masai.

"You didn’t even say goodbye," she laments.

Now at the forefront of vigils and justice campaigns, she faces constant hurdles, including the fear that keeps potential witnesses silent.

A BBC Africa Eye exposé showing police opening fire on protesters confirmed the worst fears of many families: impunity reigns.

"I’ve been to IPOA, Amnesty International, the Law Society—everywhere," says Carolyn Mutisya, whose 21-year-old son Erickson, was fatally shot while holding nothing but a water bottle.

"We saw the officers’ faces in that footage. Why has nothing changed?"